


The Star Spangled Phantom

by LokiAssassinFoxy



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 22:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12827397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiAssassinFoxy/pseuds/LokiAssassinFoxy
Summary: A cross over sequel to The Most Dangerous Dream by QueenOfTheDreamers.After dying, Erik and Christine are brought back to life. One is reborn the other reincarnated.In the weeks after Civil War, the shattered Avengers regrouped to go on a world tour vacation and Steve Rodgers is beginning to remember things he could not possibly have lived...or has he?





	The Star Spangled Phantom

Nahdir Kahn walked into the house. It was too long since Erik's last letter and Nahdir was worried. As soon as he entered the house, he knew something was wrong. First traveling to his friend’s study to perhaps find him there, yet Erik's study was untouched. Papers strewn across the desk and floor, as was typical of his half mad friend with refinance books neatly placed on shelves. Not a thing out of place, that was except for Don Juan. The leather bound work was missing. That troubled the Droga.

 

He walked then next to the living room, he found proof of the whereabouts of the missing manuscript. The fireplace had recently been used and Nahdir could see remnants of paper amid the ash of the fireplace. This perplexed the Droga further causing him to wonder

 

“What could cause Erik to burn his own life's work? Did he even complete it?”

 

Sickening dread came over him. The house was eerily quiet. Perhaps too quiet. Even Erik would have gone mad in the silence. Humming to himself as not to feel alone. Nahdir now found himself just thinking to banish the silence. Even thinking this is just some cruel joke both of them are playing on him. He smiled at that thought.

 

Nahdir walked into the kitchen next hoping to maybe find Christine, Erik's, at the time, fiancee. However just like everywhere else in the house, the kitchen was quiet and felt oddly cold and even unused. A mason jar sat on the counter with what appeared to be home made soup with flowing script that Nahdir knew did not belong to Erik or to belong to Christine. Afraid that something truly was wrong Nahdir turned to the table and found a newspaper from about four days ago, could have been more Nahdir did not pay attention.

 

The headline stung him hard, and he soon realized why Erik burned his life's work. Christine was gone. Died of tuberculous, the paper said. It had even mentioned her, husband, so Erik had married her, commissioned the most beautiful headstone. She had been twenty-two years old when she died, passing away quietly in her sleep comfortable and happy. Nahdir thought bitterly

 

“She may have been, but Erik, no Erik would have been destroyed.”

 

That thought raised alarm in his mind. Erik was very sensitive and this would be an open raw wound. Painful and harsh. Nahdir hoped he was not too late. With some urgency he cried out

 

“Erik?! Erik, Allah help me, you rat bastard answer me!”

 

When only silence met his ears, Nahdir realized the overwhelming concern for his friend. Due to the tragic past Erik had Nahdir was urged to move to the upstairs. He dashed up the stairs completely ignoring Christine's room for now, heading to Erik's room.

 

Once entering the room he could tell Erik had not slept here in days. His bed was made, which was something Nahdir always found as endearing to Erik's character. He might be seen as a monster, but he was human like everyone else. Looking around the room his eyes found Erik's Saint Drogo religious medal. He turned expecting Erik to have snuck up on him, being rather cross with him for intruding not only in his home but even in his bedroom. Yet there was no one. Something compelled him to pocket Erik's medal, which he did. He gave Erik's room one last look before stepping back into the hallway.

Each step toward Christine's bedroom made him feel dread at what was to met his eyes. Warning bells went off in his head. How he had missed this sight the first time...he would never know, but what beheld his eyes caused him to drop his carefully guarded cover revealing him to the ever-watchful watcher.

 

Nahdir Kahn was just a mortal cover for the second Prince of Asgard Loki. He at first had been sent to earth by his mother as punishment for misusing his magic and he had to learn to appreciate his gift by not having his gift. At first he was angry but using his wit and silver tongue Loki as Nahdir rose to his place of Droga. That is when he met Erik the first time. A mortal who was so much like him, it was easy for Loki to like Erik, but not for Nahdir. But he and Erik had a strange friendship. Erik never seemed to put it together that Nahdir was a god.

 

Nahdir screamed out in pain, knowing too well the growing pungent scent. Erik too was dead. Erik was his one and only friend, a true friend that Nahdir cherished greatly, even if his own real name was Loki Odinson. Erik lay on Christine's bed as if he were asleep but even Loki/Nahdir could not be fooled. Erik was dead, past the point of no return.

 

Loki allowed himself to mourn for about an hour before he pried the necklace, Erik held clenched in his hands, from his cold and stiff fingers. He pocketed it as well. He then gently took the stark white mask off Erik's face. He clasped it to his heart before tucking it into his leather armor that he wore.

 

Nahdir/Loki turned to the nightstand and got answer to the burning question he had, how Erik had died. Erik had taken his own life by poisoning himself. Erik had chugged down an entire bottle of laudanum and had enough strength to lay out on the bed as Nahdir found him. Nahdir heard voices and disappeared out the window into the streets of the city he so wished to be away from. His heart was heavy with mourning as he fled back to Asgard and to the golden palace that was home.

 

For days he stayed locked in his rooms mourning Erik and Christine. He kept close at hand, and close so he could call them with his magic, as he had a feeling that fate would be kind and bring the two back. He just did not know who right he would be. One would be reborn as they had been and the other would be reincarnate with a new life but would remember the past in time.

 

It was with a heavy heart that Loki allowed time to pass unaware of what was to come his way in the future, or the role he was about to play in the lives of his two friends.


End file.
